Coachella
by dirty-vusiness
Summary: Heather and Naya decide to clear up their schedules and go to Coachella together. Laughter, joy, music, alcohol... What's not to love? AU/RPF.


**Summary:** Heather and Naya decide to clear up their schedules and go to Coachella together. Laughter, joy, music, alcohol... What's not to love? AU/RPF.

**Pairing:** Heather/Naya

**Rated:** T, because I wanted cuteness instead of smut, but still gonna be careful because it's Heather and Naya.

**Disclaimer:** This is RPF and... None of this ever happened.

**Author's note: This is beautifully set in a universe where everything is Heya cuteness and nothing hurts, not very long but I just needed to let a few things out, enjoy. **

**(Ps, I will try to update my other fanfic either tomorrow or today. Yes. I know. It's been months. Writer's block. Don't judge me)**

* * *

**Coachella**

It always seemed like during that particular time of the year, the sun shone brighter than usual. The sky is blue and clear. It doesn't even feel like spring. The atmosphere itself screams 'summer', initiating what could only be referred to as the mere start of a wonderful day.

It's quite early and the place may not be as crowded as it usually is by the time the sun has set, but that doesn't mean there isn't any kind of music.

It's not a red carpet event. The air you breathe is pure, and the only cameras there are, are people's cellphones'. That if you don't mention the occasional professional one.

You smile, for the first time in months, possibly, feeling like you fit in.

It's places like this that remind you of what you love about your job so much.

In fact, you don't think you've been able to just... Be, in a while.

"Here!" A cheerful voice says, as you receive a red cup with what you presume is alcohol, your dark brown eyes meeting up with ocean blue ones through your Ray Bans. Your smile never fades. "Let this be the beginning of a Brit Brit and Santana day." Heather offers, holding her own cup in order to bump it with yours.

The reference makes you chuckle, and you nod, bumping your cup with hers lightly. "Cheers to that." You say proudly, before taking a long sip, right when she does.

"It feels like it's been forever, you know?" She notes, licking her lips once she has gulped part of the contents of her red cup. You think you know what she's talking about, but still motion for her to elaborate. "We just haven't had these in eras, I really missed it." The dancer admits; you offer a half smile of acknowledgement.

She has a point. You two always have time for each other, no matter what. Whether it is through small texts, or a phone call, even if it's just to catch up with coffee, no matter how short that is. But, the very last time you had an entire day dedicated to you and her only. Surely, other people you know will attend too but you promised the blonde that it would just be the two of you that day.

It had been both yours and Heather's idea to attend, in the first place. Nobody asked you, or bribed you into going with thousands of dollars like it is normally done. With Glee and, all the filming, stress could easily accumulate, hence why you didn't wait a beat before agreeing. No fancy clothes, manager, arm candies, nothing at all. None of that, for the following days.

It would just be you, and one of your best friends in more than just casual clothing, enjoying yourselves.

A part of you had always been afraid of letting go, with the constant fear of it eventually taking a bad turn, but with the blonde around it was always simpler to make that decision. If it wasn't for her, you would've probably said yes to the hell of an agenda that awaited for you back at your manager's office. Sometimes you don't like having to deal with it but, it's just one of the multiple prices to pay when you were that known in the industry. Not that you were everywhere on the charts, but, still.

You're just glad you get to do these things.

And yes, maybe your manager will be pissed later on but, in the moment you can't bring yourself to give a shit. Simple as that.

"C'mon, let's get closer." Heather tells you, and you follow her towards the small crowd gathering near the stage, far in the center. She takes your hand in order to lead the both of you faster towards it; other than the sound of your steps on the grass and the faint music itself, which volume's level increases as you get closer, it's quite peaceful.

Peaceful for you.

You find comfort in places like these. Maybe because you rarely get to attend willingly.

You visited the tents earlier, and took endless pictures of the art installations and sculptures. But this? It simply has to be your favorite part.

The adrenaline that flows through your veins, and the deafening melodies blasting through your ears, so loud you can't hear your thoughts. You may be surrounded by people you don't know, but for a few hours, everybody feels connected. It's a very rare opportunity. One you are not willing to let go off.

Singing along in the silliest way possible, although neither of you know the words half of the time, dancing, or... Swaying on your spots, you quickly find yourself submerged into a high, all along with the taller woman. One you simply cannot get out of. You feel free, light, and like anything, absolutely anything is possible. Probably one of the most amazing feelings you've experienced. The way it has all gone from indie to dance, all in less than an hour isn't amusing. You squeal, tugging at Heather's suspenders when small cannons, smartly located up the stage shoot clouds of powder paint at the crowd when the beat drops. It's like, you dove into a kaleidoscope of colors, and you wish to stay there forever.

A pair of strong, yet very gentle arms pick you up, and lift both of your arms up into the air, your legs securely wrapped around Heather's waist by this point to keep you safe while being in that position. You look down at her and she's smiling, that one smile only she has that stands out the most. The one that makes you smile back immediately. One of her hands reaches up, to remove your sunglasses, and wear them herself instead. She sticks her tongue out at you, and spins around, carrying you, still. This time you laugh, your palms land on her shoulder. You didn't even have that much to drink yet. And you feel like you're drunk. But it is not drunk on alcohol.

Whatever this is, it's much better.

"How do I look?" She asks, as you two walk over to another part of the place, Heather spins cutely, standing still in a pose, and attempting to hold back the laughter as she does so. She is, in fact, covered up in powder paint, and so are you. You crook a brow at her, and roll your eyes playfully.

"Amazing, like a rainbow threw up on you, dork."

"Sweet." Heather says victoriously, reaching out to wrap an arm around you in order to pull you close. "Having fun so far?" The question is made casually, and you know the answer right away, you think she does, too, but maybe all she wants is to hear it.

"I'm having the time of my life." You answer sincerely, because this day is the one you would give anything to live again and again, and again.

If only...

* * *

As for the following hours, they go by, rather quickly, as you make it your task to explode the area, constantly refilling your red cups, only to have the contents "mysteriously" vanishing in matter of seconds. Your steps turn clumsy and almost everything seems funny to you both but you know nothing can go wrong as long as you don't lose Heather.

Her arm has become the one thing you just won't let go off. Not even for a second. With so much people there by noon, it's probably the best decision ever made.

You hit the grass by the time the sky has started to darken. Heather takes a while but she lays next to you, eventually, and you sigh, staring up at the few stars that have made their appearance so far.

It isn't until you hear her giggle that you turn to see her. She gives you a devious smile, and you glance down at her hands. When... When did she get them all covered in actual paint?

Perhaps the guy running around with two buckets of it had something to do with that.

Oh no.

"Heather don't–"

It's far too late, because the next thing you know is that she has already pressed her palm to the front of your white tank top, and your face, too. As if you weren't all dirty due to the powder paint earlier!

You gasp, soon well aware that she isn't done just yet. She makes sure to run her hands down your arms too, and by the time you're done fighting back, she has already pulled back and chooses to silently laugh as she lays there, being careful not to touch her own face or, cover her mouth for that matter.

A few people witness the small exchange, the guy with the buckets included, and you look up at him, motioning for him to come close as Heather tries to regain composure. That doesn't go very well.

Your let your hands dive into a bucket of blue and pink paint, and quickly retract them, turning to Heather who is now waiting for your next move, barely having regained her ability to breathe normally, her eyes wide.

"Shit..." She mumbles, frozen right where she has been sitting for a while now. You smirk before practically jumping at her.

What? She had it coming.

Next thing everybody at Coachella knows is that you're straddling her, that she is dramatically screaming for salvation, and that your hands are everywhere on her person.

It seemed like a good idea in the moment. Except for the part where you two are rolling around on the grass, retrieving paint from a bucket the guy chose to place nearby just so he didn't have to get in any trouble, throwing it at each other, squealing, gasping, exchanging "How dare you!"s, or "Get back here!"s; people start to think you two are having a fight or something at some point.

But you're laughing. You're merely laughing at your own silliness yet again, and you just love it.

Everybody who stopped to watch eventually get bored, when Heather stops moving and lays on top of you instead, so they go on with their lives. You let her, your chest heaving thanks to the agitation, and all that jazz. When you feel her eyes on you, it's like your brain forces you to meet them, and you do. You stare in silence, as long as she does.

Then, it happens.

Whether you started or not is irrelevant because you're both kissing, softly at first. You're laying on the grass, looking messier than ever, with people surrounding the area, and your lips are attached to your best friend's.

Fun fact, Flight Facilities' 'Crave You' is freely playing in the background.

She cups your cheeks, and your tongue parts her lips gently, all innocence left aside. You shut your eyes closed, wrapping your arms around her neck, the both of you soon turning over so it's her laying next to you instead, that's a bit more comfortable. You aren't thinking of what may happen, or what people are going to be saying the following day, because this time it's you thinking of... Well, you. You can worry about it tomorrow.

All you know is that you really like this.

You pull away, only because you need air, and she rests her forehead against yours. Nobody says a word. Because there's nothing to say. Nothing you both don't already know.

She stands up, slowly, and offers her hand for you to take. You hold onto it tightly and impulse yourself up, but she doesn't move.

"What?" You ask, being the one to break the silence.

She only motions to her back and you frown with confusion. Huh?

"Hop on." She tells you, like it was the simplest thing on Earth, and you don't question it. You're too tipsy to do so. And you also cannot say no to Heather. So you do. It looks awkward, but you easily manage to hop onto the tall dancer's back, and hold her tight, just not enough to choke her or make her uncomfortable. She starts to walk, sliding her hands under your knees to steady you right where you are.

"Where are we going now?"

"You'll like it. Just wait." Is all she says before she continues to walk like nothing happened.

You end up approaching yet another crowd, a less loud one, she lets you hop off and you give her a questioning look.

Slow music.

She takes both of your hands, and drags you to the center, before wrapping her arms around your tiny waist.

"Just dance with me." She whispers, and it's like, any doubt you had dissipated as soon as you heard her speak. So you nod, your head resting on her chest, your arms around her neck, again, while you two just sway at the slow, soothing song's beat. If it was possible you would be floating.

Now you knew what the best part of the day was. But you were oblivious as to why this, specifically, manages to make you feel so... Alive.

There are coupled around you both, doing the exact same thing, but it's like you can't perceive them. Hasn't all day been like that? Just, you and Heather?

So far it feels like you have done a pretty good job at focusing on that, only.

And no, you wouldn't change a thing at all...

She is familiar with the lyrics, because later on, she sings to you, in a quiet tone. Only you can hear Heather's sweet voice serenading you, and you only. No-one else.

That's what you do, the rest of the night. You hold each other, and move to the eternally slow rhythm of a ballad.

It doesn't matter, whether your tank top is ruined or if you'll be forced to get paint off your person for weeks. All you care about is that, for once, you could do something that felt right to you. It wasn't to please others but yourself. And, Heather, but that's another story.

* * *

Only God knows how or at what hour you got home, but you did. Safe and sound. You took a shower, changed, and went to bed. Just like that.

When the sunshines hit your face like a brick, the morning after, you grumbled, something about remembering to close the goddamn window before going to sleep, covering your face with a pillow. Too early for this.

Your phone buzzes, and you sigh in defeat, blindly reaching out to take it from the nightstand, tossing the pillow aside.

3:09PM.

Maybe it's not _that_ early.

What gets your attention the most isn't the hour, though, but your latest notification instead. In a good way because all it does is bring a wide smile to your lips. It only confirms it all. That, the previous day wasn't a dream, or maybe that it was, but a dream that managed to materialize into something real.

Everything you felt. The joy...

It wasn't just a product of your imagination.

...

'iMessage, From: Heather Morris:

Until next year? ;) xx'


End file.
